"It seems that shortly after I began speaking, the local blue-ribbon
grand jury issued a summons for Chief Delaney to appear before them,
with all his records. Unfortunately, the summons could not be served;
Chief Delaney had just boarded a strato-rocket from Tom Dewey Field
for Buenos Aires." He cocked an eye at the audience. "I know Irish is
going to have a nice time, down there in the springtime of the
Southern Hemisphere. And, incidentally, the Argentine is one of the
few major powers which never signed the World Extradition Convention
of 2087." He raised his hand to his audience. "And now, until tomorrow
at breakfast, sincerely yours for Cardon's Black Bottle, Elliot C.
Mongery."

"Well, whattaya know; that guy was plugging for you!" Ray said. "And
see how he managed to slide in that bit about corruption, right before
his stooge handed him that bulletin?"

"I guess every Literate has his price," Chester Pelton said. "I wonder
how much of my money that cost. I always wondered why Frank Cardon
sponsored Mongery. Now I know. Mongery can be had."

"Uh, beg your pardon, Mr. Pelton," a voice from the hall broke in.

He turned. Olaf Olafsson, the 'copter driver, was standing at the
entrance to the breakfast nook, a smudge of oil on his cheek and his
straw-colored hair in disorder. "How do I go about startin' this new
'copter?"

"What?" Olaf had been his driver for ten years. He would have been
less surprised had the ceiling fallen in. "You don't know how to start
it?"